Disclaimer: The following is a story of a homosexual nature and is sexually explicit. Please do not read if you are a minor or if it is illegal where you live to do so. Remember to think smart to play smart. Use protection. Today's story is a continuation of My Boyfriend My Teammate. Braden McSwain has used a mysterious app to trade hin is reviled teammate for his boyfriend. Now in this new world, what surprises await him? Will Takeru be willing to make his naughty imaginings come true? If this sounds like something you wish to read, be my guest and read. If it is not, go back and look for another story to read.
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My Boyfriend My Teammate: Chapter 2
We overran over the Spartans 38-7 under the refreshing tutelage of Takeru Kamiya. I noticed the change right away during our first huddle. My teammates and I used to have tepid visages because we had a tyrannical quarterback. If we had lacked sense of duty to our school or a desire to play college ball, we would all have quit. Me included. However, we soldiered on. Today was the start of a new beginning.
My name is Braden Ajax McSwain and I play tight end for the Henry A Sawyer High Eagles. Yup, I am a jock. I work out at the gym and football is one of the few subjects I will chat about for hours. I adore my muscles, doubly so if I'm in gear because it's a big turn on. This is just one facet though. There is no one ever who is just one thing or can be defined by a singular trait. Case in point, I'm gay. Don't believe me? I'm serious. How many times had I gotten my rocks off while fantasizing about Rob Gronkowski? The excitement churning in my nuts was made more mind-blowing because he also played tight end, but on a professional level. I would hump my pillow imagining that the Gronk was urging me on. I kept my attractions locked away though. I faked interest in girls and faked that my gaze at other guys was just me wanting to see how I compared with my peers. There was going to be a moment when I just couldn't keep up the pretense anymore.
That moment came last year when I found out that Takeru was as gay and as silent as I was. On day after practice, me and the guys passed by him. He had tried stuffing away a sketchpad in his backpack but our quarterback at the time, David Donner, ripped it out of his hands and jeered at jeered at him, called him Twiggy. Dave though he was sticking up for me by letting me know of the hot drawings of me Takeru made. He obviously had a huge crush for me, but he felt he was unworthy of me because he was a different guy back then. He admitted to his feelings for me. My peers, well just Dave, thought I was going to slug him or something like that. What ended up being shattered was the mask I wore. I pulled him up to his feet and locked lips with him. He was so scrawny and had no interest in football.
David was a prick of the highest caliber. He lambasted the performance of our team. I knew we lost as many games as we won, but his venom was undeserved. Also undeserved, was his gay bashing. He ridiculed and ridiculed our relationship. He directed most of his hate towards me because he despised the thought that a guy with a physique like mine who had a passion for physical fitness and football was attracted to men. I prayed for justice, and it came in the form of a strange app on my phone. I found that I could alter people by uploading pics of them and update their settings. I still couldn't explain how it was possible, but I would be eternally grateful.
A couple weeks ago, I took it out for a test spin by making me as fluent in Japanese as I was in English. I also decided to adopt the Kansai dialect since Takeru's parents were from thar region. It worked exactly as promised. I could speak Japanese, I understood it when it was spoken to me, I read it, and I could write it also.
Satisfied, I turned my attention to Dave. Without hesitation, I dropped him in favor of Takeru who was my boyfriend. I was like Robin Hood. I took away Dave's zeal for football and physical fitness. I stole his physique and the size of his manhood and gave all to Takeru. Dave, in turn, was given my boyfriend's slim form. He still liked football, but interest in other sports filled his empty days and nights.
Throughout the game, it was clear they sincerely respected Takeru as team captain. No longer were they playing only to catch the notice of talent scouts. They were truly enjoying themselves. For his part, he respected Coach Evans. He would suggest a play or two, but once Coach made up his mind, my boyfriend carried them out to the best of his ability.
With the game over and the opposing team sent packing, it was time for the homecoming ceremony. At Sawyer High, we hold our ceremony after the game. Even if we are clearly losing, many will stay just for the ceremony. My teammates and I sit on the bench and see Principal Catherine Holbrook walk out to the middle of the field. She is accompanied by a cart with a box on top that holds the homecoming crown and tiara. In prior years, I would have minimal interest since I knew that someone like me would never be made homecoming king. It'll be the same tonight.
Mrs. Holbrook's voice is strong as she congratulates our team for a spectacular win, "Now for the other moment you've all be waiting for: Homecoming royalty." She held up an envelope and opened it up, "This year's homecoming king is Takeru Kamiya." My boyfriend is startled. I would be too if I was him. Blushing, he stands up from the bleachers and walks up to the podium. He removes his helmet and one of the coaching assistants takes it from him. His shoulder length hair is loose against his pads. He looks so ravishingly handsome. Plenty of girls are shrieking with adoration. They viewed him as forbidden fruit with his boy band good looks and muscular form. Tasty to look at but infinitely out of reach. He lowers his head, and the crown is placed on his head. Here comes the applause.
Our principal patiently waits until the cheers die down before she speaks again. She has the other envelope in hand. She declared, "Today, we make history. There will be no homecoming queen this year." Murmurs waffle among the crowd and my heart threatens to leap out and my feet twitch franticly. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. "Our second homecoming king: Braden McSwain!" I am giddy as I ran off the bench and stand to Takeru. Like him, I take my helmet off and the same assistant takes it from me while a crown is placed on my head.
The audience is mostly neutral, but there were a few who were happy for us. On the opposite end, there were some who were disgusted. It came no as no surprise to us who was one of them. Dave stood up and squealed, "King and Queen! King and Queen! Not King and King." His parents sit next to him and are repulsed by his behavior. They try to get through to him, but it only causes his jeers to get louder. His father has had enough, and he forces his son to sit. This new Dave is not physically strong enough to resist so he sits down and glares at us.
Principal Holbrook asks us to say a few words. Takeru goes first, "Arigato Gozaimasu! First, I'd like to thank my awesome teammates. You dudes rock. Next, I'd like to thank everyone who voted even if you didn't vote for me or Braden. Third and last, go Eagles!" I speak next and thank the people who voted for us. Pictures are taken and the crowns are put back in the box to rest until next year.
The crowd dispersed and we headed back inside with the rest of the team to shower. He wraps his arm around me, I looked at Takeru and pondered. I think he was right. I don't think I saw them, He offers a quick peck on my cheek which earns some eager hoots from the guys. He goes on to say, <Hopefully they'll come to the state championship game if we get that far. Playoffs first. We are officially in.> That last bit of news was a surprise. Earlier today, our record was good but not enough to secure a spot in the playoffs. Now, our record appeared to be improved by just the exchange of one person. In English, "Playoffs?" Theo Powell considers me curiously, "Yea Braden. Playoffs. You've been hiding under a rock or something?" Zayden Langston scoffs, "You should have seen the look on Davey's face. He's going to have to eat his words. He kept saying we wouldn't make the playoffs. Now he's going to say we're not going to make the big game and win." The sentiment was shared by all.
In the locker room, we got out of our gear and showered. As much I would like to revel in the light of Takeru's muscular Japanese body, I am still on the clock and so is he. We look everyone with the same detachment that I had mastered for years. A couple of our buddies congratulate us, "Congrats Daimyo. Congrats Bam Man." I understood Bam Man well because my teammates called me that, but what about Daimyo? I recognized its Japanese origin, but how did it relate to our world at Henry Sawyer High playing football? After mulling it over for a few seconds, I arrived at my answer. A daimyo served a shogun as a vassal. If my boyfriend was a daimyo, then that made Coach Evans the shogun.
Everyone toweled off and put their clothes back on to head home. He and I grasp hands as we head to the parking lot. We have a moment to ourselves as we bid our teammates goodbye. <I would like my parents to see at least one of my games. I don't have many high school games left. They just don't understand.> He is somber, <It was way easier to come out as gay than it was to tell my parents I wanted to play football. They see it as a sport only meant for Americans, not Japanese.> He lets out a grunt of anger, <Fuck it! I know I'm Japanese, but I'm also an American. Besides, nationality and ethnicity doesn't matter. There are Japanese on the home islands who do play American style football. They are just so traditionalist. They think that with a bod like mine, I'd do something more appropriate like judo or kendo. Wrestling is close enough to sumo. Even baseball would have met their approval. Not football. Never football which I had been watching on TV and have wanted to play for years. They finally gave in and allowed me to tryout in Freshman year, but they've never seen my play because they have zero interest. To be fair though, they did frame my photo with my gear on and they display prominently in the living room. Do you think they see me play? At least the state championship?> I held him, <I think so. The championship game's played in in the same place where the Cowboys play. Certainly, they can tolerate one game.> We looked into each other's eyes as we held the waists of each other. We pressed our foreheads together and shared a deep heartfelt kiss. We parted and said that we would see each other again on Monday.
Later that night, I was in bed and closed my eyes, but I was awake. My brain was sifting through my old memories before I got the app, the memories of the life I had after that first change took effect, and the memories after the final change took place. It felt like my brain was in a blender. Discordant. I struggled to trace my new history to the present.
My early life was identical to the one from the original timeline. I could barely remember events but then we get to the point of divergence. Our city holds Japan Fest every May. Besides the Pride Parade, it is probably the biggest social even in the city. In the original timeline, when I was seven, I wanted to go. However, something came up and we were unable to go. In this new reality, that something never happened, and we were able to go. The right time and the right place. It was the right combination that imbued me with an incredible urge. I heard the Japanese language and saw the script. I wanted to learn.
My parents were taken aback. Was this to be some ephemeral hobby? In my life up to that point, I had some interests that didn't hold my attention for long. I pleaded that this time would be different. Looking back, I could imagine my parents rolling their eyes inside their heads. They took a gamble and registered me in a class at the Japanese Community Center. The classes they enrolled me in were primarily meant for the children of Japanese Americans who wanted them to be fluent and preserve the culture. I was a drop of blond in a sea of black.
A new memory. A middle-aged woman named Yukiko Sakamoto was our teacher. It is the first day. Here, it is customary that everyone uses Japanese names and teachers use them when calling on students. Those who already had Japanese names, either as first or middle, were ready. Those who did not, either could choose a name or were given a name. I didn't want to have a name given to me. What if I didn't like it? So, I decided to give myself a name. Ms. Sakamoto waited patiently with the kids with Japanese names while those who didn't have them searched an extensive list of names. None the names that started with the letter B caught my eye, so I had turned to the second syllable. Let's look at the D names. Here's one Denjiro. I said the name to myself, "Denjiro, Denjiro." I liked the sound of it, and it started with the same three letters. I walked up to the teacher, "I'm Denjiro." I joined my other classmates.
The years passed and I struck with the lessons to my parents' surprise. The lessons were intense, but I never wavered. By the time I got to high school, I was fully fluent. As for the Kanai dialect, I took what I had learned in the classes and taught myself Kansai. I could read and write in Japanese too. Some said my Japanese writing was understood more easily than my English. Yea, never read my notes.
In both timelines, I met Takeru when we were incoming Freshmen. He had gone to different schools for Elementary and Middle. In this new timeline, our first encounter was more memorable and unique. I had seen him every now and then. I didn't think much of it. His physique was already mouthwatering just like mine. I found it hard to concentrate in class because I kept thinking of him. Thoughts of other boys were fleeting. The image of this classmate stuck inside my mind like superglue. I thought that maybe he was into karate or something like that. I had no idea that he was a football nut until I met up with him for tryouts. Imagine my surprise when I saw him in line with other candidates and that his demeanor displayed no reluctance or any other sign that he was noncommittal. He was clearly here because he wanted to be here. He was clearly determined to give it his all to earn a coveted spot on the team.
Coach Evans and the rest of the staff gives everyone their fair share of time. No one is shortchanged. He tells us that their decisions will be posted outside his office the next day. Next day, we all crowd around the bulletin board. Many are excited, several are disappointed. Those not chosen for quarterback were upset most of all and felt Takeru's addition was tokenism despite him clearly outperforming them in every way. They storm out of the area with glowers etched upon their faces. Takeru face is one of simple innocent confusion, <I got chosen because I was the best?> I stand by him as do the rest of the new players, He looks at me in surprise, <You speak Japanese? You speak it so well. Sorry if that sounds rude.> I look back at him, <You're not being rude. I'm proud to know Japanese as well as I do. I can also converse in the Kansai dialect. Read and write in Japanese too. I've been learning since I was seven.> Our new teammates were baffled by our lively conversation. They accepted this mundane quirk, and it became part of the tapestry.
We became fast friends, faster than we did originally did. We were very inseparable and whenever we hung out and it was just the two of us, we stuck with Japanese or Kansai. Kansai especially when we wanted to be a couple of screwy goofballs. We also came out sooner, but not by own hand.
Some weeks into Spring semester, we started to notice a certain vibe between the two of us. Our hearts spoke and told us that were to be more than just friends or even besties. During the bus ride back to campus after a field trip, we were sitting together as was our habit. Many had dozed off and he took the opportunity to ask a life changing question, < Sorry if this sounds awkward. We're friends, right?> I looked at him puzzled, He looked at me, <I wanted to tell you something important to me and I hope that it doesn't ruin what we have.> I nodded, Takeru paused and whispered, <I'm into other guys.> I put two and two together, <Do you have feelings for me?> He nodded and I smiled, Emboldened, he reached out to my hand and plays with my fingers while he smiles. I do the same.
Months passed and we kept our relationship a secret. Only our parents knew and welcomed our relationship, and we were happy with them just knowing. However, that secret fell apart during our Sophomore season. Naturally, Dave was fated to be our bane.
We had snuck off to quickly make out during halftime employing the ruse that Takeru was heading off to check up on me. In a secluded corner, we had our arms around each other as we shared a kiss. A scornful voice to the side, "Ew! You two are gay?" It was Dave and he saw it all. He saw us gripping each other's waists with one arm and another arm draped across the other's shoulder pads. He ran back to his seat shouting giddily that he had caught us making out. He is a lonely island in a sea of tolerance. We didn't want to lie. As despicable as a person he was, we did not want to make him a liar when what he said was true. Hand in hand, we walked back to the bench. No one thought much of it, and he was confused why there weren't more people who were as disgusted as he.
We were Seniors now and we one of Sawyer High's distinguished couples. I regularly hung out at Takeru's house and had dinner with him and his parents. As much as I thought they might blame me for their son's interest in football, they couldn't because he had been a huge fan years before he had met me.
Bing, Bong! Who's at the door? I'm just waking up in my room when I hear Mom's voice cascade from the front, "Braden! Boyfriend's here. Like clockwork." Huh? I come out of my room and there he is with a dufflebag. He rolls his eyes when he sees my confused look, <Gym time dude. Why else do you think I'm here for? Your sausage for breakfast?> My mom just stands there unaware that Takeru just made a lewd comment. <Oh, just give me a second.> I make a dash to my room and grab my own bag. Thankfully, I'm always prepared at a moment's notice for the gym. We head out the door and I get in the passenger seat. Within minutes, I start to wonder where we are going. We are heading farther and farther away from the gym I go to. We were supposed to go to the gym I go to, right? "Where are we going?" Takeru sighs, "Gym. Monday and Thursday is at our local gym, Saturday is gym in J-town. Remember?"
I rubbed my head. That made sense. "Nihon Gym. `Nihon Gym by Nihonjin'" Takeru nods in agreement, "Mmm, hmm." The slogan was catchy but don't be deluded that the gym was only for those of Japanese descent. Picture a gym transplanted from Japan to the Lone Star State and use bilingual signs. It was the best place to take classes in karate, judo, and kendo. Plus, it had an onsen or at least as best a reproduction that could be realized stateside. While it was true that it accepted everyone, it wasn't to everyone's tastes because although the signs were bilingual, Japanese script was displayed more prominently. I had the feeling that almost all the clients who made use of the gym were of Japanese descent and those who attended classes were more diverse. I had a feeling that I was one of the few clearly non-Japanese to have a gym membership there.
Several minutes later, we arrived. We got out and headed to the main doors. Even before I entered, I knew I stood out with my clearly no-Asian face. There was a man with an athletic build at the desk, I wanted to say he was mid-twenties. As soon as I saw his face, the name of Mason Takeda popped into my mind. He looked up and energetically answered, <Hey guys! How did your homecoming game go?> We checked in and approached the desk. I replied, <Awesome. We steamrolled over our opponents.> Takeru clapped my back, <Yea and they made us homecoming kings, no queens this year.> Mason congratulated us, and we headed to the locker room.
It was like any other gym, just one told through a different lens. The banter back and forth between clients was nearly exclusively in Japanese. Just like the ambient music that was playing. I had an intense enjoyment there and Takeru did likewise. An hour and a half later, we left and went back home to continue with our day.
That night was the first time I had been to his place after the changes to reality. I was there for our weekly sleepover. He opened the door wearing his usual yukata and I did a double take. I was still getting used to this new Takeru. Here is a guy who is now into physical fitness and football as much as me now, but nuggets of the boyfriend I had known for the past few years were still there. His new longer hair was tightly pulled back into a manbun, but he had on a facial mask like his old self to keep his skin at its finest. None of the other guys took care of their faces like that, me included. I found it...unsettling? Weird? No, humorous. I let out a snort of mirth. <What?> I blurted, <Facial mask?> He let out a snort of his own, one of playful derision. <You should try it sometime. Why do you think girls keep fawning over me? Look at me. Rocking stud body, silky long black hair, radiant skin.> He feels his chest in a lusty way and flexes his biceps before brushing his smooth cheeks with his fingers. I took off my shoes and put them in the nook by the doorway and entered.
His parents were in the den enjoying a quiet evening. I paused in the entryway and greeted them in the appropriate Japanese way. After a brief conversation, I followed him to his room which was just like its occupant, a blend of the old and the new. The furniture was the same, but much of the décor had changed. He still had his drawings displayed prominently, but now most depicted the masculine form he had worshiped which he now had. Most of the illustrations were of him. Most skated the thin ice of appropriateness. Some of these were heartwarming like one in which he depicted us as mermen playing hide-and-seek along the ocean floor. Check out that one. It is him in football gear with jersey emblazoned with his name and his number 47, helmet off which is in his hand. He has his back facing the "camera" which he is looking back at with a mischievously playful grin. Emphasis on delightful globes of Japanese ass.
A poster of Toshiro Mifune hung on the wall above his bed, another new addition. It was from Yojimbo, and my boyfriend's new hairstyle was a clear homage to that and other samurai films. He held the actor in the highest esteem as a paragon of Japanese masculinity. He frowned as he looked at his poster wistfully, <There are those who don't think much of us Asian men. They see us suitable only as geeks or scientists, something like that. They struggle to envision us in masculine roles or as being sexy.> He held me in front of him and deeply kisses me, <Of course you do and you're a sexy blond. My sexy blond boy.> I am caught in a whirlwind of mindless bliss while he removes my clothes and replaced them with my pajamas which was a basketball jersey. He whirls me around and presses his engorged crotch against my butt as he licks one of my ears, <My sweet sexy American boy. You like this. Don't you Denjiro?> I whimper, "Hai." I craved getting on all fours and him gripping my waist as he mindlessly fucks. The thought of millions of microscopic samurai invading me sends tingly feelings throughout my body. I was so horny that I bet if he tapped on my crotch or patted my ass even slightly, I'd be jizzing my shorts in no time. He sensed I was so close, <Later. For now, lets head back to the den before my parents think we're being naughty and check in on us.> We headed back to the den to spend time with his parents. Not one word of English was uttered, and I felt good. They were more comfortable speaking Japanese although they were fluent in English. It was important to me that I speak the language of the household.
It is time for bed, and we go wash up. His folks have gone to bed already. First is the brushing of teeth and then we share a communal piss. Listen to that stream. His is strong and steady. He looks at my eyes which looks down as he empties his bladder. I look back up sheepishly. He just chuckles in a goofy and carefree way. We finish at the about same time. We wash our hands thoroughly and he rinses off the mask he had placed on his face while I stood there. He dried his face, and I touched its smooth skin. I looked at him. Geez, he is so handsome. He could probably find work as a model easily. Maybe he was on to something of using facial masks.
We entered his room, and he reaches for the band holding up his hand. With a soft poof, his hair is unfurled and lands on his stout shoulders, just a tad past them. He then takes off his yukata and climbs into bed. I take off the basketball jersey and get into bed with him. Beneath sheet and blanket, his body is warm. His is a radiant sexual energy for he climbs on top of me and presses his muscular torso against mine. We had done stuff like this before I used the LifeMix app to change him, but he had been weaker than me. Now, he had the strength that Dave once had. His power now overwhelmed mine, but not too much. It was such a turn on and he knew it. <Where were we? Oh yes. Being naughty.> He grinded his pelvis into mine. I had such an aching hardon and so did he. I couldn't stand it anymore. I didn't want to live a dream anymore. I wanted it for real.
<Yes. I am your daimyo, and you must service me with your mouth.> He scoots up the bed so that his groin is in my face. He places his hands on the headboard and I lower his briefs which were emblazoned with the word Understand for that was the brand he wore. Yes, understand. I understood that this was my place for him. While we were to be versatile, Takeru preference was for him to be the top and for me to be his bottom.He treats what we are about to do as just another play as if we are on the gridiron, "Red 27, red 27. Suck, suck." He shoves his boner into my mouth and jackhammers away as if today is Earth's last day. My eyes look down at his potent manhood thrusting in and out of my mouth, past the forest of black pubic hair and up his firm chest, past his proud protruding pectorals and up at his radiant boy band face face which is framed by his long hair. His eyes look down and locked onto mine. He smiles happily as he looks at me while my mouth is stuffed with his meat. The fanciful thought of an announcer declaring, "Here's your MVC, most valuable cocksucker, Braden McSwain!" Takeru grunts and grunts as he's not able to hold back anymore. A delicious fount pours into my mouth, and I swallow every drop of Japanese semen he offers.
He descends and lays against me, "Did I taste yummy?" I hold him against me, "Oishii!" His smile never leaves me as I feel a straying hand descend to that special place between my legs. A soft grip and soft strokes, our gazes never leave each other. I didn't last as long as he and I begin coating his fingers. He puts them in his mouth, "Yummy yummy." We pull up our underwear and the sheets to cuddle, eventually journeying to slumber land together.
Each win brought our team closer to the state championship which also made me feel good because we were proving Dave wrong. He would loudly declare, like before his demotion, that we were losers. What was wrong with this guy? I would think that school pride would outweigh this irrational hatred he had. He would rather see us lose than see us win just so he could say that if we had been real men, we would have been victorious. Me, Takeru, and the rest of our team were emboldened to prove him wrong. In the end, we made the playoffs. In the end, there was just the one game left: the State Championship.
Before we headed to Dallas, we had the biggest pep rally I had ever attended. In all my previous seasons of playing with the Eagles, we had never gotten this far. The local paper did an extensive article about us. That evening we boarded the bus, and we were on our way. As we enjoyed the ride, Coach Evans began the room assignments. Eventually, "Tucker and Braden, Theo and Zayden." Whew, I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I thought that Coach was going to separate us. Either he trusted us that we wouldn't get frisky or didn't mind if we did so long as we were responsible. How did Theo and Zayden feel about us? Not anywhere near David Donner levels. The most anyone ever saw of us was holding hand or cuddling, quickie kisses occasionally. They were of the whatever mindset, but they did stand up for us against Dave's scorn in that other reality. Theo frowns, "What business is it of yours if they are in a relationship?" A protest, "It's not natural." Zayden bitterly peers down at him, "You speak of what's natural or not? I know what is natural. You're a hypocrite. You're a sports nut and we all know it. You cheer your heart out at basketball games or baseball games, any sport our school has. You brag how no one can stump you when it comes to trivia. You bragged how you went to the World Series this past spring and got a front row seat and waved that photo of you with the team. Our football team? You treat us like garbage just because two of our bros are into other dudes." Dave's lip quivers. Here are two beefy linebackers, young Black men. Sensing defeat, he hisses and sulks off.
Our two roommates are in the row behind us. Zayden leans forward, "I can't wait to hold that trophy high and see Davey's reaction. I know we've lost a few games and we were just one field goal short of getting into the State Championship, but I just feel that this year is our time. Think your folks will be there Takeru?" My boyfriend looks back, "Don't know. They've not said anything, and I didn't see them pack anything." Theo was sympathetic, "This is their last chance to see the Daimyo in action." Takeru sighs, "Yea. I know, but I have you two and the other guys, and my Brae-kun here." He turns to me and plants his lips on mine which I cheerfully accept. We still have a way to go, so I lift the armrest separating us. We snuggle against each other and use our jackets as blankets, falling asleep.
A jolt wakes me up. I was having such an awesome dream, one that I decided to keep to myself. For now. Me and Takeru, Theo and Zayden, and the rest of the Eagles were playing football naked against our soon to be rivals, the Vipers, also naked. I reached down to adjust myself. Theo and Zayden and Takeru saw the obvious mound of my arousal. They snicker and I join in as I start to deflate. We put our jackets back on and disembark the bus. In the bus next to us, the cheerleaders and bandmembers.
The lobby is quiet as the Sawyer High entourage enters. Look at Takeru go. He has a gait that radiates energetic confidence. Some of the girls are scoping him out, those spherical glutes of his crammed into jeans. I looked at them annoyed and they responded by giggling and looking away in false innocence. The adults check us all in and everyone gets their room keys. Once my roommates and I get ours, we cart our luggage to the elevators, and we wait for one. We enter and Zayden presses the button for the third floor since he's closest to the buttons. After stepping out, our heads dart to find out where we are to go. Takeru blurts, "This way." We turn left and we head to room 312.
Typical hotel room. Two queen sized beds facing a TV, bathroom near the entrance and closets next to them. So, who gets which bed? Obviously, Takeru and I will share a bed while our teammates get the other. It's just a matter of whether we get the bed near the window or the one near the bathroom. In the end, we get the one near the window. Theo had a thing about the cold, and he claimed that there was a chill coming from the window. Takeru and I didn't mind which bed we got. All that mattered was that we shared the same bed. We placed our luggage in front of the bed nearest the window and our two buddies did the same for the bed they would be in.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Practice in the same stadium where the Cowboys played in the morning while and then meet with media with the game after that. It's going to be a great spectacle, on the level of a bowl game. Have our pictures taken and have video clips recorded.
Theo turns on the TV to break the silence as we go wash up and get ready for bed. Per his custom, Takeru brings out the yukata to wear until it's time for bed. He reaches for the back of his head and removes his hairband. He is a beautiful masculine man with his muscular body, bishonen face, and long hair. Sometimes I imagine that I have overheard whispers from male classmates, those who identify as straight, wanting to try Takeru out if the wanted to see what being with a guy was like. I am imagining things, right? Even if they were interested in him, everyone knew the two of us were in a relationship. I push these suspicious thoughts out of my head while we lounge on the beds as each of us taking turns washing up. The news is over, time to go to bed. I remove my sleepwear and Takeru peels off his yukata, and we climb into the bed wearing just briefs. Theo and Zayden have no qualms about taking their clothes off around us. No one on our team did, but I was grateful that they were our roommates. My boyfriend and I looked and hungered over tonight's special: briefs stuffed with Black sausage. They knew it too and gave their bulges teasing kneads before they got into bed. TV off, lights off. Takeru positions our bodies in our usual display, me cradled in his slumbering arms. My back against his front.
Morning arrived too quickly. We washed up, dressed, and reported early downstairs for the bus to take us to the stadium. We earned the opportunity to dress in the locker room of the Cowboys. It blew our minds because we saw the names of professionals at the top of the cubicles, and we were each assigned a cubicle based on our position. We suited up and headed to the field for an intense couple of hours of practice. We came in, stored our gear away, and showered before returning to the hotel for breakfast.
As much as I would have liked to have ventured out, the staff felt it was important for us to stay put. There was too much going on to have us stray. We stayed and whittled away the hours until it was time to meet with the media. We dressed in business casual and headed to one of the conference rooms.
There was a cluster of chairs at one end and then rows of chairs facing the cluster. The staff assigned the seats in a manner so that we could all be seen and have a group picture taken. There was local press and, reporters from our town, and huh? There seemed to be some type of commotion at the entrance because a group of Asians is talking with our staff who aren't sure about admitting them because although they appear to be reporters, they are clearly out of place. Takeru looks on in concentration. We heard words in unsure English and the reporters talking among themselves in Japanese. Our teammates look at us two in confusion, then back at the reporters, then at the disruption before looking back at us. Zayden whispers leans over in concern, "What's up?" Takeru looks at us and motions for a quick huddle, "I think they are reporters from the home islands." I looked at him dumbfounded, "But how though?" He shrugged his shoulders and saw that our school's staff admitted them. We were told that they were here from the Kyoto Shimbun. I explained, "Newspaper."
Hours later, we returned to the stadium and we recorded our video clips: those were we say our names, numbers, and our positions. True to his word, my boyfriend identified himself by his Japanese name. He was adamant about its usage. It was time and we headed down the hall. We could already hear the crowd and it was as if everyone in the universe was in the stands. The announcers, those who worked here, introduced us and we raced through the banner. Great spectacle indeed. It was as if this was a professional game, as true as normally played here. Billboards displaying our school's logo and team name.
Nail-biting hours passed. Neither us nor the Vipers has a runaway lead. The anxiousness was only interrupted by the halftime show and then the madness continued. We were starting to crack. Takeru noticed before we could fall behind and said, "Come on bros. Get your head in the game. This is just another game. Here, back home, a cornfield. Don't matter. Banzai!" He raised his arms up in exaltation. We all did. "Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!" We were rejuvenated and our focus came back.
We did it. We won 34-28. It was the first state championship won by Henry Sawyer High in 13 years. What followed were ceremonies and holding up the trophy. The crowds dispersed and few, those connected with our school, remained. Takeru was so ecstatic. He lifted me up and whirled me around before gifting me with a quick peck on the lips when he turned his head and blurted, <Dad? Mom?> In the crowd we noticed his folks and they came out with the other parents.
It warmed my heart to the extreme. After all these years, after all these games, years of reluctance, they were here at a game of his. He was happy and hugged them with tears running down his face.
All of us were with family but he had no one before. Their thoughts were with him always and they hoped the best for him, but they never had desired to attend a game. Now, they were here for him absolutely. They took photos of themselves, those that were a long time coming. The celebrations on the field lasted a long while, but eventually it was time to shower and head back to the hotel. In the morning, we would have breakfast and head for home afterwards.
"It was a mutual contact. Dad told my Uncle Kenzo that they were planning to surprise me at the game. He works as a meteorologist for one of Kyoto's news channels. He had mentioned it to a friend of his who works at the newspaper and things went from there. They promised that they'd mail me a newspaper once it's printed so I can get a copy of the article. They'll send you a copy also Braden and our school as well." It was close to midnight before we got ready for bed, but tonight's celebration was not at an end.
What time is it? I felt a poke and a pleasuring hand rubbing me to a fantastic hardon. Really? At this time? In this place? In a room we are sharing with two of our buddies. <What are you doing Takeru? It's late. Can't we fuck later?> He whispered, <Please? I want to celebrate by claiming your virginity.> I would be lying if I hadn't thought that this moment should happen before we graduate, but here? Right now? My boyfriend's machinations were becoming hard to ignore. Zayden yawned, "What are you two up to?" Honesty before reason, "Takeru needs my ass, badly." Theo yawned also, "Wha? What's going on?" Takeru cheerfully exclaimed as he says he's headed to a party, "We're going to have sex."
Already, I was pulling down my shorts. Already, Takeru was gliding his fingers across my butt which sent shivers throughout. Zayden turned on the lamp and our roommates sat on the bed, legs dangling off on the side. They regarded us with curiosity as we took the rest of our clothes off. Heart and dick beat hard. Out team won the state championship which was amazing. Now, my boyfriend and I were going to share the moment we had been waiting for ever since we began our relationship. What about supplies though, "We don't have lube or condoms." Takeru reached into his suitcase, "Tada!" He waves the string of packets in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.
We knew what we were supposed to do, but we weren't sure how to do this beyond he puts it in me. I decided to assume the only position familiar to me when it came to guy on guy contact, but this time was different. I got on all fours and raised my butt high. This time, it is the quarterback who will sack. Takeru's hands glide over my rear, "All mine. All mine to play with and pound." I soon felt liquid and fingers coating the inside of my hole. One finger and then another as he hums to himself, "Nice wholesome American ass ready for Japanese cock." There's a whistle on the other side of the room and Zayden comments in wonder, "Look at the size of that. Certainly, gives me a run for my money." This was true. My boyfriend had inherited Dave's package when I switched their bodies, and I knew that he was one of the more well-endowed guys on the team. I knew I was in for quite a memorable ride when I felt the head made contact.
Takeru planted his pole and kept going. I felt so wonderfully stuffed as I accepted more of him until I felt the strings of pubes. Now that he was all the way in, he began to hump. His movement was slow and patient at first. He wanted to cherish the moment for as long he wanted, He then started to pick up speed and out of the corner of my eye, I saw two more dudes get in on the act.
Sitting on the other bed, Theo and Zayden are massaging their crotches. They were certifiably straight and yet, their arousals were without dispute. Takeru never broke his focus while he looked at their busy hands, "Go on bros. Whip those suckers out." Zayden paused a second before deftly pulling his shorts down with one hand and out sprung a rod of dark brown. Theo appeared to need more encouragement. While he appeared to enjoy the action, and he kept rubbing himself, he appeared unsure about unfurling his manhood. He looked at Takeru's hair bounce with every thrust, my look of bliss as I got pounded, and Zayden's cock so much like his. "There's nothing wrong with this?" Takeru again multitasking, "I'm just a guy enjoying himself, Braden's enjoying himself and so is Zayden. Looks like you're having fun too. Nothing wrong with that. Right guys." My face is against the pillow, and I turned my head. I mewl, "No problems here except go faster." My boyfriend said, "Got it." He's like a train: fast and powerful. I was totally on cloud nine. Zayden guffawed, "You sure got me going. Look at this monster." His gives his hard member a playful swat and it swings back and forth before he continues stroking it. Theo shyly looks at his fellow linebacker and then back as us. Two pairs of eyes focused on where ass and cock meet. It is almost as if his body goes on autopilot. He gets out of his shorts but goes one step further. He removes the rest of his clothes to be as naked as me and Takeru. Zayden follows him into nudity. No clothing separating any of us from pleasures.
Takeru changes positions. He withdraws and pushes me onto the bed. He lifts my legs and shoves his shaft back in. Torso against torso as his round buns flex as he pistons. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer because my balls were starting to churn and neither would he much longer. "I'm about to cum" I whimper. He looks at me with his long hair cascading down upon me, as if he's a rutting lion. He grins with mischievous delight, I squealed, <I'm cumming, cumming.> Here come the fireworks. They fly up and come raining down on the firm landscape of teenaged jock. The constriction of my balls squeezed my hole which catapulted Takeru to the stars. My wonderful quarterback, my sweet quarterback boyfriend. He arched his back as he throbbed inside of me, grunting all the way.
My boyfriend withdraws himself and he holds up his prize, a latex tube filled with his essence. He presses his face against mine and giggles as he lays against me, "That was amazing. You have no idea what it felt like having your hole massage my meat." He looks at my chest, "Looks like you need a cleanup." Takeru leans down and brushes my torso with long licks, "And they say there's no such thing as American food." Finished with our special fun, we were content to sleep like this with his arm around my chest like our custom. Not yet though because Theo and Zayden had other plans.
I would never ever question their straightness, but there was an eagerness dwelling in their eyes. They got off the bed and continued to stroke. They looked at each other, then at the slabs of beef between their legs and then at us. Zayden quips, "You two want a midnight snack?" We scramble to the floor and get on our knees. Our heads get right next to each other, and we look up with sparkling eyes. We open our mouths as wide as possible. It doesn't take them long. They aim for our opened mouths and begin feeding us copiously with their delicious sauce. Takeru and I look at each other and snicker at each other, He replies, Although we caught most of it, the rim our lips were coated. We drape our arms around each other and start licking each other's faces to clean up. Our teammates pulled their shorts up and so do we. Now close to 1am. We climb into bed and turn off the light. Wake up time in about six hours and then home.
The following week, there was a big celebration at the trophy cases as Principal Holbrook congratulates us for our win. Next to the trophy is the article from the city newspaper as well as our team photo. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see David Donner who is standing away in a corner. When we looked in his direction, he would look away and scoff. He always had a sour attitude, always hard to please, but he looked that he wanted truly happy for us that we won, but his bitterness wouldn't let him. Maybe one day Dave, you'll find that your sense of school spirit can reach football despite the two of us being boyfriends. We've done nothing to disgrace the game. Now, it's pretty much too late.
The rest of the year concluded quickly. Finals and then the usual end of year stuff at school including the winter dance. Christmas with my family and then afterwards, a new year.
"How was your New Year's?" Takeru met up with me in the school parking lot. There was a chill in the air. Thankfully we were wearing out letterman jackets which now had patches heralding our championship. He smiled as he wrapped his arm around my waist, "Great. Got our usual long-distance letters from my relatives back in Japan. I'm the first Kamiya who's been in the newspaper and many of them had varying opinions, mostly glad. Dad had told them to be on the look out for the article."
We entered the front entrance, visited our lockers, and headed to our first class: Economics. Same usual morning routines. Then just before our teacher Mr. Conrad could begin the lesson, the intercom came on. "Braden McSwain, report to the principal's office. Takeru Kamiya, report to the principal's office." The class oohed in a scandalous way until our teacher silenced them. He directed, "Take your belongings. You never know how long this will take." He wrote passes for us just in case and we left the room.
The main hall seemed to stretch forever. Maybe it a subconscious desire to give us time to wonder why we were being summoned. He made nothing less than an A and Bs for me. We got along great with our teachers and most of our classmates. We were never disruptive or anything. What gives? We made our way to the staff offices at the end of the hall. We entered and were told by the secretary that "they" were waiting.
We entered and there was Principal Catherine behind the desk which was in front of numerous books. She was not alone. Off to the side was a guy who was as scrawny as Takeru was once upon a time. We didn't have uniforms, just a dress code. No tees, no ratty jeans, no busted sneakers. Him? He was overdressed for school here, and I was reminded of a traditional Japanese school uniform for males. The only thing he was missing was the familiar jacket. She introduces him, "Gentlemen. Meet Yuhei Ishikawa."
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I would appreciate any comments you may have, but please keep insults or flames to a minimum. I'll try to respond to everyone, but no promises. Please mention the title of the story so I know what you are referring to. You can email me at: chaoswolf04@yahoo.com.